I noticed a strange warm light outside my window last evening. I grabbed my camera and went out on the deck at the back of the house to check out the sky. Sometimes, on rainy days in the valley, the clouds on the horizon lift moments before sunset and allow golden light to break through. I’m glad I took the time to look. It only lasted a few minutes but the last bit of sun caught a cloud just before it dropped another shower of pine and flower-scented rain. God’s grand finale in his theater of glory on a warm Sunday evening.
I went back to my office after it started to fade and saw out the window that yet another rainbow had formed to the south.
I followed it outside. The fine misty rain felt so refreshing I stood on the sidewalk, face to the sky and thanked God for more wonderful visuals of his glory.
The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship. Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make him known. They speak without a sound or word; their voice is never heard. Yet their message has gone throughout the earth, and their words to all the world.
(Psalm 19)
Jean Calvin called nature a “Theatre of Glory” that continuously speaks of the majesty of the Creator. Alistair E. McGrath wrote: “For Calvin, the creation reflects its Creator at every point. Image after images flashed in front of our eyes, as Calvin attempts to convey the multiplicity of ways in which the creation witnesses to its Creator: it is like a visible garment, which the invisible God dons in order to make himself known; it is like a book in which the name on the Creator is written as its author; it is like a theater, in which the glory of God is publicly displayed; it is like a mirror, in which the works and wisdom of God are reflected.”
A grand garment, a book, a theatre, a marquee, a mirror. Every one saying, “Beauty! Majesty! Glory!”
Yes. I see you, Lord, and You are Beauty. You are Majesty. You are Glory.
My eyes were barely focusing when the bedroom door opened and the questions began. Our grandchildren visited us this week (bringing their parents along for the ride.)
Can we make cookies like last time?
Will you draw me more ice skating paper dolls?
Can I watch a movie on your computer?
Can I make a castle out of Lego?
Can you sew me a dress today?
Can I pick the strawberries yet?
Can we go to the toy store?
Do you still have ice cream in your fridge?
Can we go on a picnic in the forest?
We did a lot of those things, but when I learned the African Children’s Choir was going to be in town I knew they would enjoy going to hear them. The problem was that they didn’t know they would enjoy going. They had never been to a concert before. They had no grid for this experience. I showed them YouTube clips of the choir, but they still weren’t convinced -until we were sitting in the front row of a large local church – and then the choir children ran in and sang and drummed and danced their way into our hearts. Our five-year-old granddaughter begged permission to sit on the floor at the foot of the stage. It wasn’t long before she was up and moving to the music. Although, from time to time, she shyly checked out the very white, very sedate audience sitting neatly in rows behind her, the desire to dance and sing along almost burst out of her. Her three-year old brother never blinked as he studied the amazing young drummers, his hands moving quietly in his lap.
Their joy gave me joy.
Later our granddaughter said, “I wonder if God wants me to be a singer?” All the way home from the Canada Day celebrations in the park (another happy new experience) she sang, unselfconsciously, in a strong, pure, totally in tune voice, “Bless the Lord, oh my soul, worship His holy name. Sing like never before, oh my soul, I worship Your holy name!”
She made me smile so hard my face hurt.
I was wondering what to write about after they left. I felt the Lord telling me to rest; he would give me a topic. (Two very active pre-schoolers and an 18 month old intrepid explorer in a house that is not child-proofed anymore make me aware of my age.) When I woke up from my nap I had a message from a former student I haven’t seen nearly often enough. She talked about something important she realized about prayer, that prayer is not about changing the will of God so that he will grant us our requests; rather prayer is knowing that we are his beloved children and spending time with him brings our will into alignment with his. I thought of the privilege we have of being part of God’s family and being able to call him Abba -Daddy. I thought of the kids and the African Children’s Choir experience. Yes. It all fits.
Any relationship requires effort (some would even say work) but where love is, that effort is a pleasure. I adore my grandchildren and they seem to enjoy being with me. (“Daisy” packed her suitcase and had it sitting by the front door two days before it was time to leave for Nana’s house.) My friend’s post reminded me that as we make an effort to spend time getting to know the God who loves us much more purely than a grandmother ever could, we begin to understand who he is and who he says we are. Prayer -spending time with him- is not a burdensome chore. It is pleasure. We may ask him for a thousand things, and he hears us and gladly responds, but he often has even better ideas. He wants to give us more than we ever imagined. He gives us grace to reach our potential because he knows the desires he has already placed in our hearts. He just wants us to come and talk to him and listen to him.
So, sing like never before, oh my soul, and worship his holy name!
The whole earth sprouts newness and life in the springtime, and green shoots break through the well-seeded garden soil. That’s what it is like with the Eternal’s victory— the Lord will cause justice and praise to sprout up before all the nations, for all peoples to see.
(Isaiah 61:11)
June is the usually rainiest month in this part of the world. Combined with melting snow pack in the mountains it can be a dangerous season. When dire predictions of more flooding were broadcast on various media this week part of this song started playing in my head:
If the sky above you should turn dark and full of clouds and that old north wind should begin to blow, keep your head together and call My name out loud. Soon I will be knocking upon your door. You just call out My name, and you know where ever I am I’ll come running to see you again. Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call and I’ll be there.
Hey, ain’t it good to know that you’ve got a Friend?
People can be so cold. They’ll hurt you and desert you. Well, they’ll take your soul if you let them, oh yeah, but don’t you let them.
You just call out My name, and you know where ever I am I’ll come running to see you again. Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call, “Lord!” I’ll be there, yeah, yeah, you’ve got a Friend. You’ve got a Friend. Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a Friend.
Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a Friend. Oh, yeah, yeah, you’ve got a Friend.
(You’ve got a Friend by James Taylor and Carole King)
There is more than one kind of storm. Sometimes people have no idea of the kind of storms that rage inside our hearts. A line in another old song talks about “fightings within and fears without” and yet, “just as I am, I come” to the Lover of my soul.
Calling out for help is not always easy, particularly for those of us who don’t want to admit we need help.
I looked at the dark clouds. I called. He answered.
The rain was heavy, and there was some flooding, but nothing as serious as was predicted.
I looked at the raging storm within. I called. He answered.
Last night my son and husband and I were talking about worship, and about how worship springs, not from our efforts to do something for God, but “Christ in us” jumping up to acknowledge the presence of the Father (who I call Abba.) It’s like the way the baby John the Baptist leapt in his mother’s womb when the Holy Spirit within him was conscious of the presence of God in Mary. Worship is being conscious of God making us his temple and of the perfect love and unity between Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Worship is what we carry in us. Worship is a gift God fills us with so we have something to give to Him. Music, art, dance, brick-laying, whatever, are merely the vehicles to express our praise.
Unity is when we are conscious of Christ in us, and the perfect Oneness of the Godhead, so we can recognize Christ in others and thus desire to worship together -because it is who we are. It’s in our new DNA.
This morning I had a dream of Jesus giving his children a gift that looked like maggots (ew) but it turns out they were living seeds. They just had to move it, move it, move it. Then he gave me a pack of playing cards and I heard the song, “Take a Chance on Me” -by Abba.
Jesus singing and dancing to Abba. I love his humour.
Another outstandlingly bright rainbow appeared over my garden this week. I put down my work and just reveled in its beauty for a while. After the three that showed up on the same day, (here) it was another over-the-top reminder of the keeper of promises.
We don’t need to give up our day jobs and permanently park at signs of beauty or grieve when they fade though. Signs point to something greater than themselves.
I heard a new musician lately -well, new to me. It seems a lot of worship groups are comprised of attractive, energetic young people with strong, healthy bodies, thick shiny hair and impressive orthodontic work. I appreciate a praise band made up of members who look like they’ve been around the block. There’s an authority there. Some young people get it, but usually only time spent in the trenches gives a singer/songwriter the right to sing about endurance and promises kept. I had been listening to Bob Book’s song, Relentless, when the rainbow showed up.
Sometimes I find myself down in the valley
And the shadow is hanging so low.
I can’t see my way to tomorrow.
There’s something I know:
There’s a deeper magic ,
There’s a higher truth than these eyes of flesh can see
And I’m holding on,
My hand in Yours,
You are the greater reality.
Relentlessly good,
Relentlessly kind,
Unendingly patient to the questions we find.
Even the bad can work for the good.
Relentlessly faithful,
even when You’re misunderstood.
In a world where nothing seems certain
Your love is relentless.
Oh my God, You’re relentless!
-Bob Book from Relentless, from the album A Divine Conversation
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
(John 1)
Charis: Subject to Change 